


l’hymne à l’amour

by lustresky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 40sactress!reader, Angst, Brainwashing, F/M, Multi, good ol’ 40s sexism, kidnappings, kinda slowburn idk, mentions of dissasociation, prostitution(?), will def have a happy ending tho!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lustresky/pseuds/lustresky
Summary: Evelyn Grace Richards; that had been your name. At least, the name that Steve Rogers had known your face by— back before he woke up in the 21st Century.
Relationships: Captain America/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. le ciel bleu sur nous peut s'effondrer

**Author's Note:**

> ooooooooo it’s ya gal’s first ever chaptered x reader!! i really don’t even know why or how i came up with this but uh.still here u go:) this will be very angsty n dark in the first few chapters but!!! as always it will end happily don’t worry!!! hope u enjoy !! 
> 
> btw as a poc writer myself, i tried my best to make the reader as inclusive as i can, however writing this in the specific time periods in which the story takes place, that proved to be quite difficult. so if it sounds off and/or completely inaccurate in some parts, sorry bout that:( 
> 
> as always, title is a song! this time it’s by edith piaf!:)
> 
> disclaimer: this story is a work of fiction. please keep that in mind while reading, thank you!
> 
> \- lily<3

“ ** _Evelyn. Grace. Richards._** ”

The unknown man in front of you throws the Manila folder onto the metal table, making you flinch— but you catch your lip in between your teeth before you can say anything.

You had _always_ hated your film name. 

_It had never suited you._

He pulls out the chair adjacent to yours from under the table, the metal skidding uncomfortably against the cement floor. As he sits down, his eyes strike against yours.

“Hollywood’s golden gal… America’s sweetheart…” He lists off the nicknames, the ones that the headlines had always used whenever they announce your films.

A pause.

“Or shall I say, **_Y/N Y/L/N_** _?_ ”

As soon as your ears pick up his words, your heart momentarily stops beating.

_How can he know that?_

He must’ve sensed your distress— because he laughs, the sound sending chills down your entire body. 

“We know more about you than you do…” He drawls as he rests his arms on the table, framing the folder in between. “In fact, we know _everything_ about you. Not just all of your projects and awards and films— _no_ . We know your birth date, your _history_ …”

“We know the _truth_ about you.”

You feel bile rise up your throat, but you keep your nerves in check. 

_Imagine that this is just another scene, Y/N._

“Do you, now?” You manage to say, trying to muster up some courage to circulate in your veins. 

_This is just another film,_ you try to fool yourself. 

_You’re playing a character, it’ll all be over soon._

The man just chuckles— but there’s no amusement behind it.

“With just a clippin’ of these papers on a newspaper, _sweetheart_ ,” He stares right into your eyes; the pet name making your stomach recoil. “Your _entire_ career would be over.”

He leans in closer.

_“You wouldn’t want that now, would you?”_

His condescending tone riles you up, anger replacing the courage coursing through you. It’s an all too familiar way of speaking; an all too familiar tone that the men in the films that you had starred in with had used whilst talking to you outside the frame.

You grit your teeth, trying your best to break out of the rope that has your hands tied back against the cold metal chair in which you’re sitting.

_Futile._

A pause, then a laugh at your unsuccessful attempt. 

“With what you **_are,_** ” He spat, venom dripping from every syllable. “You’ll never be **_enough._** ”

You ignore his words; as truthful as they are and as much as they had pierced through your heart.

“But…” The pit-patter of his boots resounded throughout the room until he came to a halt in front of you. With a hand, sickeningly gentle, he lifts your head by your chin and makes eye-contact— a frightening and wicked grin on his face.

_“If you work for us, you’ll be more than you could ever have thought you’d be.”_

The statement stuns you for a second— catching you off guard, but you didn’t suppress the humourless laugh that escapes past your lips. 

“And I presume that _kidnapping_ me is going to make me— _what?_ ” You spit out. “Say **_yes?_ **”

He sneers.

His hand drops from your chin and wraps around your throat.

The thought of not being able to get out of this alive settles in, distress coming back as the dams holding back your tears start to waver in strength. 

So many questions run through your head: **_Who_** _are these people?_ ** _How_** _did they know things about you that only_ ** _you_** _know?_ ** _What_** **_else_** _do they know?_

You had left your past behind in order to achieve your dreams; you had used every tooth and nail that you had in order to get where you are today— secrets and mistakes stashed away as you fabricated an image for yourself.

An image of you that had garnered fame, a display in which your whole life depends on.

If any word of what you had done in order to achieve it gets out, you would never be able to recover. You would lose your job. You would never be able to star in a film ever again, cast away as disappointed and disgusted looks are thrown your way.

Even as imperfect as it is, you _adore_ it. You love taking on roles that make you forget about the real world for a while. You love the feeling of being in another person’s shoes. You love fleshing out characters so— _so_ different to the real you…

True, you would never be able to achieve your dream of being more than what you are now— you’re a _woman_ , after all. No matter how many medals and awards you’d be given, society still expects you to marry a man and have children. It fucking sucks… but that’s the card that you had gotten dealt with. 

As the apparent truth finally comes to a conclusion in your mind, your head drops to the cement floor.

You aren’t getting out of this safe and sound… 

_Unless you do what it is that you’ll be told._

“What do you want?” You manage to say through the pressure, voice helpless and full of weakness that strongly contrasts against the likeness that you portray.

His hand finally drops from your throat, and you take a much needed— _albeit shaky_ — breath.

“Well, to put it simply, we want _you.”_

You furrow your eyebrows, a humourless and almost breathless laugh escaping past your lips.

“You want me to become your— _what_ , your personal little _whore?_ ” You spit out the word, chest tightening at the repulsive thought of having an unknown man’s hands roaming your body.

The stranger just laughs. “Well, you aren’t wrong. Who knows, maybe _they’ll_ make you into one.” 

A hum goes past his lips. “You’ve certainly got the attributes for it.” He adds, eyes raking over your bound body.

You grit your teeth, ignoring the goosebumps spreading across your skin upon his beastly gaze. “They?” You ask, heart pounding in your chest. “Who the hell is _‘they’_?”

A tsk. “I wouldn’t necessarily expect a _regular_ woman to know who they are,” He replies, arms crossed. “But for someone like you, the oh-so-great **_Evelyn Grace Richards_** …”

“ _I expected more_.” His arms unfurl from his chest, and that’s when the light glints off of the pin on his lapel— catching your eye.

It’s small, just a little bit bigger than a nickel. Mainly silver, but with a touch of bright red.

In the middle of it all is a symbol, one that you had never seen before.

You squint your eyes.

A… _skull,_ it seems like. With tentacles— _six_ , coming out of its jaw.

He sighs, the sound snapping you out of your concentration as you racked your brain for what the logo could mean.

“No matter,”

Your eyes snap up to meet his.

_“You’ll meet them soon enough.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if u have any questions/requests, feel free to send me an ask over on tumblr!!:) my username over there is @lustresky !
> 
> \- lily<3


	2. et la terre peut bien s'écrouler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: this story is a work of fiction. please keep that in mind while reading, thank you!
> 
> -lily<3

_Buzzing._

_A continuous buzz is all that you can hear._

_Nausea creeps up in your veins as a heavy weight rests uncomfortably on your chest. Your arms feel glued to your sides, unable to be lifted nor moved._

_Another buzz._

_Then a click._

_Stomps of feet… gradually becoming louder and…_ **_closer?_ **

_A squeak._

_A swivel. Perhaps that of a chair._

_A cough._

_Then, an ice cold hand lays itself on your left arm._

_The sudden temperature makes you inwardly flinch, but your body stands rigid._

_You try and open your mouth— wanting to say_ **_anything_** _. Wanting to_ **_know_ ** _where you are. Wanting to_ **_ask_ ** _so many questions…_

_But nothing happened._

_No amount of energy that you had could force a single word out of your lips._

_Then a stab._

_A needle._

_You want to cry out— the scream residing in your throat thrashing to be released._

_The unknown liquid pours into your bloodstream, burning your veins like molten lava._

_Before you know it, the needle retracts._

_A wave of fatigue then washes through you— be it from the panic attack or whatever they had put in you, you didn’t know._

_Your chest heaves for air._

_The hand from before lays itself back on your arm, sickeningly gentle._

_Your consciousness slips out even more._

_Then the buzzing stops; just for a moment. Just enough for you to hear clearer._

_“Rest, fraulein.”_

_And you did as what you were told._

* * *

A knock.

A turn of the knob.

You hear the pit patter of boots come up beside your vanity as you stare back at your reflection in the mirror.

The reflection stares back.

Its lips are painted red. Its hair a golden shade of brown— pressed flat and curled into elegant yet modest curls, framing its face. Its dress, accentuating its bust and collarbone, hung low on its shoulders.

Its sight is unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

It feels like you’ve seen it before, but you don’t know for sure.

The only thing that you’re sure of is that you had no idea when nor how you got in the chair that you’re in now.

A clear of the throat from your left.

“ ** _Navy blue suit_** **,** ” The stranger— a man— lists off. “ ** _Maroon tie_** **,** **_pointed leather shoes_**.”

The hum of acknowledgement passes by your lips without your consent.

“ ** _Seduce_** **,** **_bedroom_** **,** ” He continues. “ ** _Massage_** **,** **_gain his trust, convince_**.”

You nod.

“Good,” He says. 

A pause.

_“Go break a leg.”_

* * *

Your heels clack against the marble tiles as you walk, purposely swaying your hips.

You come to a halt next to the bar, and you let out a perfectly practiced smile to the bartender.

“A sidecar, please.”

A nod.

You then shift your eyes to scan the vicinity.

Within a few seconds, they come to a halt upon a man— hands moving as he animated what seems to be a story to another guest.

**_Navy blue suit._ **

Just like the reflection on the mirror from before, his face is familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.

You tear your eyes away from his face and onto his physique.

**_Maroon tie._ **

You cast your eyes lower.

**_Pointed leather shoes._ **

“Here you go, ma’am.”

You look back at the bartender, taking the drink with another smile before turning back and eyeing the man.

You take a sip, feeling the sour liquid wash over your tongue.

**_Target locked._ **

You peel the glass away from your lips as you strut, hips swaying, hair bouncing along with each step.

As you approach the man, you let your ruby painted lips turn up into a sultry smile. 

You stop and give him a tap on the shoulder.

The greeting, and the name, drops immediately from your mouth— as if programmed and rehearsed a hundred times.

“Good evening, _Mr. President._ ” 

At the sound of your voice, he stops talking; and turns back around to look at you.

A quick glance, that was all he took, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes glistened over as he took your body in.

He clears his throat and gives you a nod. 

“Good evening to you too, Miss…?”

“Bates,” You reply, the alias given to you smoothly rolling off your tongue. “Catherine Bates.”

“Well,” He chuckles, good naturedly. “Good evening to you too, Miss Bates— say, I feel like I’ve seen you before… on screen, I think?” 

“I’m afraid that you’ve probably got me mistaken.” The lie comes out of your lips automatically— and your mouth falters for a moment, not exactly sure how your body _thought_ of it asa lie. 

_You ignore it._

“Lots of people say that about me.” You add after a quick pause, taking a sip of your drink.

He nods, and hums in understanding. “Crosby a friend of yours?”

You nod, letting your lips curl up slightly. 

“You could say that…” A giggle falls from your lips. “Crosby… Let’s just say that he and I have _quite_ a history.”

You twirl the glass in your hand as your eyelashes flutter just the way you knew that it would catch his eye.

**_Seduce._ **

_“_ I’d be happy to tell you all about it…”

You lean in close, lips just a few centimetres away from his ear.

_“I’d be glad to show you all of it, too.”_

His eyes widen at your words, and he takes a glance at the vicinity as if he senses eyes on him.

However, everyone else just continues on with their acts, oblivious to your whisper.

He takes a pause, before clearing his throat and adjusting his tie. 

“Well, Miss Bates, I’m all ears…” He gives you a charming smile; the one that you presume had captured so many voters’ hearts. 

A pause, and his voice becomes lower— almost a whisper, as he asks, “Mind taking this somewhere more… _private?_ ” 

**_Bedroom._ **

You force out a giggle, shaking your shoulders to act coy. 

One strap from your dress falls. His eyes glue themselves onto the sliver of now exposed skin.

_“I certainly don’t.”_

It didn’t take you both too long to find a spare bedroom.

Crosby’s mansion sure proved itself to be one.

For over an hour, your limbs had been tangled with his. His lips glued to yours, hands roaming around your body. Legs and arms spread apart— _inviting._

You pull away, needing a breath of fresh air; before you hear him wince.

“Everything okay there, sugar?” You ask him, using the sweetest voice that you have, popping the pet name on top to sound innocent— even if what you two had been doing a few minutes ago wouldn’t exactly be considered so.

He stretches his arms, and you hear bones pop. “Not particularly…” He sighs. “Back’s got a few problems.”

“Well,” You rest your hands on his shoulders. “You know what I can do with these.” 

He gives you a chuckle. “If you don’t mind.”

 **_Massage._ **

“I never do.” You reply with a grin. “Now, lay on the bed. I’ll be gentle, _I promise_.”

**_Gain his trust._ **

He follows your instructions.

Before long, your hands are on his back; massaging and easing away the tension.

A sudden sense of clarity washes over you for a quick second, and that’s when you remember that you haven’t given _anyone_ a massage before— but your hands seemed to be moving like that of a master masseuse.

As if programmed to.

He groans in content as your hands expertly cracked a knot, pushing you back into reality.

“You seem to be under a lot of stress these days, Mr. President,” You say, forcing out every single drop of honey that you can add onto your words. “May I ask why?”

He sighs.

A pause.

“Well... this year’s my last,” He says. “If I want to do all eight, I have to run again, and campaigning takes quite a toll on me.”

You hum.

“May I ask when your campaigns start?” 

“Around November of next year,” He replies. “We’re already sure of the places where we want to campaign… but we’re still not quite sure on the best way to get the people to listen.”

You hum once more.

“I mean...” You say, hands rolling over his shoulder blades. “If you truly want to touch someone’s heart and make them listen, the best way to do so is by saying your points face to face with theirs, right?”

It was his turn to hum in agreement.

**_Convince._ **

“Well,” You shrug. “Why not take the limousine out for the campaign? Let the people see you in real life— and not only on screen, as I’m sure most of them have seen you for most of their lives.”

“I’m quite certain that you’d love that too.” You add with a giggle. “I’ve heard that you have quite a thing for convertibles.”

He laughs. ”I sure do.” 

A pause; a few minutes of silence, but you can still hear the gears in his head turning as he mulls over your idea.

“That… actually seems like a good idea.” He finally says, and you didn’t have to see his face to see him smile. “I might just have to take you up on that, Miss Bates. Thank you.”

You hum.

_“My pleasure, Mr. President.”_

* * *

_You open your eyes._

_Cold._

_Numb._

_Tired._

_With as much energy as you can dredge up, you shift your eyes to the left._

_The sight of a man— small, balding, with circle framed glasses and a doctor’s coat, greets you._

_He sits on a chair, hands holding up a newspaper._

_You focus your eyes to read the black, blocky letters displayed on the front cover._

**_KENNEDY ASSASINATED, CONVERTIBLE MURDER_ **

_You furrow your brows._

**_Who’s Kennedy?_ **

_Before you can even get an answer, the man puts down the article. Upon looking at your open eyes, he smiles._

_“You did well, fraulein.”_

_You open up your mouth to talk, but nothing comes out._

_“Ah,” He nods his head. “The new serum has some side effects for the first two hours— do not worry, they are not permanent.”_

_The cry in your throat desperately wanted to crawl it’s way out; but nothing came past your lips._

_You thrash your legs, and that’s when you notice the leather belts keeping your body in place._

_The man tsks. “Physical activity may make your body have a harder time accepting the serum.”_

_He gets up and retrieves a cloth from the other side of the room and dampens it with a jar of liquid._

_The man comes by your side once more, a disgustingly gentle smile on his face._

_“Rest for now.”_

_He lays the cloth on your nose and mouth._

_You try to scream— try to do_ **_anything_ ** _— but in doing so the sweet scent quickly enters your lungs._

_The last thing you hear before seeing black is;_

_“You’ll wake up soon, fraulein, do not worry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if u have any questions/requests, feel free to send me an ask over on tumblr!!:) my username over there is @lustresky !
> 
> \- lily<3


	3. peu m'importe, si tu m'aimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooooohhh finally another chapter!!!!!!! hope u guys like this one;)  
> -lily<3

_Buzzing._

_Cold._

_Chills._

_As you open your eyes, you take a deep yet shaky breath._

_Goosebumps litter your skin, a numbing type of ache holding your limbs in place._

_You hear the squeak of a chair from the side._

**_Is it the man from before?_ **

_You shift your eyes to the right._

**_No, it isn’t…_ **

_The man now beside you is younger, wrinkles barely present on his face; and instead of wearing a doctor’s coat, he wore a three piece suit. His hair is golden, coiffed perfectly._

_“Good day, Miss Collins.”_

_You narrow your eyes at the name._

_“Collins?” You croak, wincing as the shrill sound escapes your throat._

_He furrows his brows, and stares straight into your eyes._

_“Your name…” He whispers._

_“For this_ **_role…_ ** _” He continues._

_At the mention of the word_ **_role_ ** _, a switch flips on in your head._

**_REGISTERING [NEW ROLE]…_ **

_He takes a pause._

_You stare back at him, expectant._

_”Is Elizabeth Collins.”_

_Your eyes gloss over._

**_REGISTERED: ROLE #2_ **

**_LAST NAME: Collins_ **

**_FIRST NAME: Elizabeth_ **

**_DATE OF BIRTH: N/A_ **

**_OCCUPATION: N/A_ **

**_MISSION: N/A_ **

_He takes another pause._

_“Now,” He claps his hands together. “What is your name?”_

_“My name is Elizabeth Collins.” You answer back immediately, zero hesitation in your voice._

_He nods._

_“Your date of birth…”_

**_REGISTERING [DATE OF BIRTH]..._ **

_”Is June 21, 1954.”_

**_REGISTERED: ROLE #2_ **

**_LAST NAME: Collins_ **

**_FIRST NAME: Elizabeth_ **

**_DATE OF BIRTH: 06/21/1954_ **

**_OCCUPATION: N/A_ **

**_MISSION: N/A_ **

_You give him a nod._

_“Your occupation— for now, at least…”_

**_REGISTERING [OCCUPATION]..._ **

_“Is as a journalist at The New York Post.”_

**_REGISTERED: ROLE #2_ **

**_LAST NAME: Collins_ **

**_FIRST NAME: Elizabeth_ **

**_DATE OF BIRTH: 06/21/1954_ **

**_OCCUPATION: Journalist at The New York Post_ **

**_MISSION: N/A_ **

_“Noted.” You say._

_He hums in content, and opens his lips once more._

_His voice drops to a whisper._

_“Your mission…”_

**_REGISTERING [MISSION]..._ **

_“Is to become Senator Harry Baxter's_ **_personal assistant,_ ** _” He starts._

_“Find every little thing— every little_ **_secret_ ** _, about him…”_

_“_ **_Seduce_ ** _him…”_

_“Plan and go on a_ **_rendez-vous_ ** _in his villa. Just you two, all alone.”_

_“_ **_Inform_ ** _us of the_ **_date_ ** _and_ **_time_ ** _.”_

_“Then, once all’s said and done, follow the_ **_man with the metal arm_ ** _.”_

_You nod._

**_REGISTERED: ROLE #2_ **

**_LAST NAME: Collins_ **

**_FIRST NAME: Elizabeth_ **

**_DATE OF BIRTH: 06/21/1954_ **

**_OCCUPATION: Journalist at The New York Post_ **

**_MISSION:_ **

  * **_Personal assistant._**
  * **_Seduce._**
  * **_Secrets._**
  * **_Rendez-vous._**
  * **_Inform date and time._**
  * **_Man with the metal arm._**



_“Will that be all?” You ask._

_A smile creeps up on his face. “Yes.”_

_A pause._

_He opens up his mouth for the last time._

_“Go break a leg.”_

* * *

Baxtor lifts an eyebrow and looks up at you.

“Well, Miss Collins,” He says, satisfaction clear on his face, and plops your documents down on his desk. “You’re certainly… well suited for this job.”

_**Personal assistant.** _

You let your rose painted lips curl into an enthralling smile.

“I believe that that isn’t the only thing that I’m well suited for, senator.”

His eyes widen.

A haze clouds over them.

You tilt your head to the side, fluttering your eyelashes and pursing your lips in an almost pout.

_**Seduce.** _

“Would you like me to show you, sir?”

He gulps.

His gaze flickers from your own eyes down to your bust.

_“I’d certainly like that, Miss Collins.”_

* * *

Baxtor enters the room.

You continue shuffling his documents.

“ _Elizabeth?_ What are you doing here in my office?”

You look up at him.

“I’m your personal assistant, sir. That means I have to sort through your files.” You say nonchalantly, a smile on your face.

_**Secrets.** _

He hums, and walks to your side, his arm coming up to rest on your waist.

You ignore the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach as you continue to act coy.

He leans in close.

“I’m sure that you’re more than that now.” He whispers in your ear.

You force out a giggle. 

“Am I, now?”

He nods.

“Well, if you’re so sure,” You say, turning around to face him properly. 

You let your eyes drop from his gaze and onto his lips. 

“Why don’t you invite me over tonight for a little…”

You take a pause, playfully cocking your head to the side as if you didn’t know the word.

“How did the French call it, again?”

**_Rendez-vous._ **

He chuckles. 

“A rendez-vous?”

You nod.

He leans in closer. 

“So?” You raise an eyebrow.

He laughs, his nose brushing against yours. 

“Does 8 PM this evening sound good to you?”

You bite your bottom lip and smile up at him.

“8 tonight sounds _perfect._ ”

He gives you one last smirk before pulling away.

“I’ll be waiting, then.”

You watch him leave, a smile plastered on your face for appearances.

As soon as the door clicks closed, it falls.

You whip out your mobile phone.

**_Inform date and time._ **

“ _Today— March 12, 1979. At 2000_.”

You hear a satisfied hum from the other side.

_“Noted.”_

* * *

Before you could have even knocked, the huge mahogany door opens wide.

“There she is.” Baxtor smiles.

You laugh. “Here I am.” 

He pulls you in for a hug. You inhale a whiff of his cologne as he does so.

_Royal Copenhagen, huh?_

Once you both separate, you give him a smile. “Shall we get started, then?”

He shakes his head and chuckles.

“I think that we should have dinner first,” He drops his eyes onto your body; clad in a skin-tight, beige, wool dress, ending on your mid-thigh. 

You pretend not to notice how they linger and stay on your exposed legs. 

“Wouldn’t want the food to go cold now, do we?” 

You giggle. “Well if you say so, _sir._ ”

His eyes go back up to yours immediately. “As much as I love hearing you call me that, sweetheart, I’d much prefer Henry for now.”

“ _Hmm…_ Henry it is for now, then,” You let your lips form into a perfectly practiced smirk. “But I’m sure I’d slip out and say sir— oh, I don’t know… sometime _later_ tonight?”

His eyes gloss over.

He leans in, making your noses brush against one another— but before he can do anything, you lift a finger up and press it on his lips, effectively stopping him in his place. You open your mouth, and say;

_“Wouldn’t want the food to go cold now, do we?”_

You laugh as surprise overtakes his face.

After a beat, he shakes his head, a playful smile now resting on his lips. “Let’s hurry, then.” 

He lets you in; taking your hand and guiding you through the massive and luxurious villa and towards the back.

When you spot the candlelit dinner beside the pool, you hum appreciatively.

“Ever the gentleman, are you?”

He drops your hand, and instead places his own onto your waist.

“Anything for you.”

You giggle, and shift your eyes to the pool.

An idea forms in your mind.

“You know what?” You say, hands already going for the bottom of your dress; the action making his hand fall to his side.

You look back at him with a smirk. “I think dinner can wait for now.”

Hands grasping at the hem of your dress, you take it off in one full motion and toss it to the side.

In less than a second your body is submerged in the pool with a splash.

You rise up, raking your hands through your wet hair.

Baxtor looks down on you from the side of the pool, complete amazement written clearly on his face.

“Well?” You say, a playful smile on your lips. “Aren’t you getting in, _Henry_?”

At the sound of his name falling sweetly off your tongue, his whole body stands up straighter; and before long he too has stripped to his undergarments.

With a splash, he jumps in, before breaking the surface right next to you and pulling you in close to his chest.

“May I?” He asks, ever so gently.

You giggle. “You may.”

Your lips connect.

After a few minutes of hand roaming and tongue exploring, you break the kiss for a gasp of air.

He doesn’t stop— now going for your neck; peppering kisses all along your collarbone.

Suddenly, his stomach rumbles.

The chuckle comes past your lips immediately. “Looks like dinner’s gotten tired of waiting.”

His laugh vibrates against your throat. “‘t seems so.”

You put your hands on his shoulders and pull away.

“Let me make myself proper, then.”

He stares straight into your eyes.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

You push your body towards the tiled stairs, leaving him all alone in the pool.

Knowing that he’d like the show, you purposefully sway your hips a bit more as you start climbing up.

You reach the end.

A shot clangs against the air.

You barely flinch.

You look back; seeing Baxtor’s now lifeless body floating in the calm body of water— his blood slowly tainting its clear colour.

You scrunch your nose up in pity.

_Poor pool boy._

You bend down, grabbing your dress and putting it back on.

A glint of metal catches your eye.

**_“Подписывайтесь на меня.”_ **

_Follow me._

You translate the words automatically in your head— but you’re not quite sure how.

Last time you had checked, you barely spoke a lick of Russian.

_You brush the thought off._

You look up.

A man, with scruffy black hair and a black mask, stares back into your eyes. His case is dangling by his shoulder whilst he stands straight— like a soldier.

You shift your eyes to his left arm, which is mainly covered due to his black leather jacket; but the shine of metal from his hand confirmed your suspicions. 

**_Man with the metal arm._ **

You look back at him.

He narrows his eyes, as if he recognizes you.

The next words that came out of his mouth makes your entire body freeze.

**_“Evelyn Richards?”_ **

Your heart leaps in your throat.

_What?_

Before you can dwell too much on the name, however, a voice cuts through the silence.

_“Sir?”_

Your eyes widen and shift towards it.

_I thought we were alone?_

Before you know it, your feet are dragging your body away from the crime scene and outside into the parking lot; a mental map clear in your head thanks to the floor plans of the villa Baxtor had sent to you before he had bought it.

You get inside your car and press on the pedal— not wasting a single second.

It’s when you’ve driven a good amount of kilometers away from the mansion that you realize something.

Something _important._

You were supposed to follow the man with a metal arm.

_Fuck._

You slam your fist on the hood of your car.

If he hadn’t said anything, you would have; but him saying that name threw you off guard. Whoever lived with Baxtor didn’t help your surprise either.

_Evelyn Richards…_

_Evelyn…_

_Richards…_

You rack your brain.

Who the _fuck_ is _Evelyn Richards?_

Your mobile phone then rings— effectively cutting off your thought process.

Anxiety and fear courses through your veins.

You pick it up.

“Where are you?”

You look up to your left, and see a sign.

Doing your best to not let your voice quiver, you say, “Between Emery Way and Myers PL.”

A beat.

“We’ll be there in a minute.”

A minute later, exactly just like they said, a black van pulls up to the back of your car.

You get out and walk towards the vehicle; head hung low and heartbeat high.

The van door opens as soon as you step foot in front of it.

“How did you _not_ know that he had a personal butler?” A man, whom you’ve never seen before, spits the question at your face, anger laced through every word.

You open your mouth to defend yourself. “He never listed it in any of his records.”

“Oh, of course,” He huffs and scrunches his nose up at you. “And he definitely writes down the fact that he wants to change jobs and become the Undersecretary of the World Security Council instead, doesn’t he?”

You scoff up at him. “Those things are completely different from one another.”

“Sure they are.” He sneers. “Whatever, get in— boss is gonna have your neck once we get back.”

You keep your jaw shut tight and did as what you were told.

* * *

_Whispers._

_“How did she not know?”_

_“She said that it wasn’t written on any of his records, boss. Probably hired illegally.”_

_A scoff, then a pause._

_“And where is he, now?”_

_“We’re still not sure, but we’re doing our best to find him.”_

_“Well do better.”_

_A shuffle of the feet._

_“We will, boss.”_

_Another scoff._

_“You better, I don’t pay you people for nothing.”_

_Another voice then pipes up._

_“Sir? Should we wipe her now, or should we wait for him too?”_

_A beat._

_“Wipe her now— the sooner she forgets, the sooner we can use her again.”_

_You feel a needle prod your thigh._

_“Noted, sir.”_

_It plunges._

_You thrash, but nothing changes._

_“Might as well freeze her now, too.”_

_A hum._

_“All right sir.”_

_You feel your body being shifted into another spot._

_The cold welcomes you once again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if u have any questions/requests, feel free to send me an ask over on tumblr!!:) my username over there is @lustresky !
> 
> \- lily<3


	4. je me fous du monde entier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello im sorry i havent posted in so long!!!!!! school has been wack to say the least haha cries. hopefully u guys still like this chap! :]  
> -lily<3

**_“_ ** **_лейтенант, мы уверены в этом?_ ** **_”_ **

_Lieutenant, are we sure about this?_

A scoff.

**_“Вы сомневаетесь в моем решении, офицер?”_ **

_Do you doubt my decision, officer?_

You hear a shuffle of feet.

 **“** **_Нет, сэр. Просто в прошлый раз, когда мы заставили их работать вместе, все пошло не так, как планировалось…”_ **

_No, sir. It's just that the last time that we had them work together, things didn't exactly go as planned..._

A chuckle.

**“Не волнуйтесь, они будут работать вместе, но не рядом друг с другом, чтобы завершить эту миссию.”**

_Don’t worry, they won’t exactly be working alongside one another for this mission._

**“** **_Он перезапустил ее, правда, не так ли?”_ **

_He_ **_did_ ** _restart her, though, didn’t he?_

**_“Да сэр.”_ **

_Yes, sir._

A hum of approval.

**_“Хорошо.”_ **

_Good._

The gradual squeak of leather boots become louder.

**_“Разбудить ее.”_ **

_Wake her up._

* * *

_You crack the knot in your neck, huffing out a breath._

_The elevator doors start to slide open, and you correct your posture as soon as they fully do so._

_“Oh,” A woman, with perfectly coiffed brown curls topped with a few gray streaks, says as she lays eyes on you. “Good morning.” Her red lips curl up into a small smile._

_You give her a polite smile back as you clench the documents in your arms tighter to appear timid. “Good morning.”_

_She enters the enclosed space with a hum._

_“First day?” She asks and sends a nod to the pile of papers between your hands. “You’re_ **_his_ ** _newest assistant scientist, I presume?”_

_“That’s me,” You give her a nod back and a nervous chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”_

_“Well, yes, it is,” She laughs. “But really, I assure you that there’s nothing to be anxious about— he picked you, after all. I’m sure that you’re full of potential.”_

_You purposefully flush under her praise._

_You clear your throat and hold your hand out._

_“Stephanie Williams.” You smile._

_She grasps it in her hand and gives you a firm shake._

_She smiles back._

_“Peggy Carter.”_

* * *

_“Stephanie?”_

_As soon as you hear your name fall from his lips, you rush over to his side._

_“Yes?” You tilt your head to the side, eyes focusing on the messy files laid out on the glass table, various test-tubes filled with different coloured liquids unknown to you cluttering the area._

_He rolls back his shoulders and groans. “Want to go outside and take a break?”_

_You let out a chuckle. “But we’ve only been working for three hours,” You point a finger at the machines that you had just finished assembling. “Plus, I still have to sort those prototypes in their proper storage areas.”_

_He waves a hand at your refusal. “Oh, you can do that later.” His nose scrunches. “I’m getting suffocated in here.”_

_You grin. “Well, if you say so. I_ **_am_ ** _craving some coffee.”_

_His eyes crinkle as he smiles back. “That’s the spirit.”_

_He stands up from his chair and cracks his back once he’s fully upright._

_A groan. “God, age is really getting to me, isn’t she?”_

_“Need a hand over there, sir?” You laugh. “Or in this case should I say, grandpa?”_

_He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Not funny, Steph,” He grabs his lab coat and pulls it off. “I may be old, but I’m not_ **_that_ ** _old.”_

_“And for the last time, you’re my assistant for Christ’s sake, not my secretary,” He adds, draping the cloth over his chair. “So stop calling me ‘sir’—”_

_He looks up at you with an exasperated smile._

_“And call me Howard.”_

* * *

_“Yes!”_

_Startled, you jolt from your seat._

_“Howard?” You ask, a breathless chuckle coming out of your lips. “Everything okay there?”_

_His face comes into your view, and his face is twisted into one of pure content._

_“Everything’s_ **_more_ ** _than okay.” He says as he sets down a covered Erlenmeyer, filled with a translucent blue liquid, on your desk._

_You curl your lips into a sarcastic smile. “And what’s that, Gatorade?”_

_He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but his mouth quirks up into an amused smirk._

_“After years…” Howard breathes out. “I’ve finally managed to make it again.”_

_He rakes his hands over his hair. “I’ll need to transport it over to the Pentagon this week, and there are still a ton of regulation tests, but… I’m_ **_sure_ ** _that_ **_this_ ** _is it.”_

_“Hold on, hold on,” You say, hands coming up to stop him on his ramble._

_You raise an eyebrow. “You made… what, again, exactly?”_

_Howard crosses his arms across his chest._

_His eyes twinkle and stare straight into yours._

**_“The super-soldier serum.”_ **

* * *

A bright, white light suddenly shines against your closed eyes.

You flinch and tilt your head to the side.

An amused, dark chuckle rings in your ears.

“Not waking up, huh?” 

A slap.

Your eyes open wide as the sting burns your left cheek.

The cold air enters your lungs as you try to even your breath, and you wince at the intrusion.

You cringe even more as the sound of metal scratches across the floor.

A man, clad in a military green camo suit, sits opposite you.

Your eyes wander, and you see another man— shirtless and standing straight, seemingly frozen in a cylinder type of container.

He seems… _familiar._

Another dark laugh.

“Do not worry,” The unknown man says, his accent dripping with every word as he notices your wandering eyes. “He will have his time to shine too.”

You look back at him, confused.

“What?” You ask, wincing as your dry lips cracked.

He clears his throat and stares straight into your eyes.

 **_“Role Summary,”_ ** He rasps.

Upon hearing the two words, your mind immediately blanks.

You stare back at him, waiting expectantly.

He opens his mouth, and says;

 **“** **_Stephanie Williams_ ** **.”**

**_[SEARCHING…]_ **

**_[ROLE FOUND]_ **

**_ROLE #3_ **

**_LAST NAME:_ ** **_Williams_ **

**_FIRST NAME:_ ** **_Stephanie_ **

**_DATE OF BIRTH:_ ** **_02/17/1966_ **

**_OCCUPATION:_ ** **_Assistant Scientist of Howard Stark (S.H.I.E.L.D)_ **

**_MISSION:_ **

  * **_Report Howard Stark’s findings._**



Your eyes blink.

 _“Where would you like me to start, sir?”_ You say, voice monotone as you stare blankly into the distance.

A satisfied hum.

“Tell me all about his current projects— _mechanical_ , to start.”

A nod.

The memories come back to your head clearly; the words come out of your mouth without a hitch as if you were reading a script.

_“Howard Stark is currently working on multiple advanced missiles and weapons to sell to the U.S. Army and gain profit from.”_

A pause.

“Anything in particular that stands out?”

Your head shook itself left to right.

_“No, sir, all of them are merely remodified from the old weapons. They all have the same base and blueprints. The only difference this time is that they are made with a higher grade of metal.”_

A satisfied hum.

“I see…”

He tilts his head to the right.

“How about his… _biologically_ inclined projects?”

A memory, clear as day and as if it was just yesterday, flashes before your eyes.

**_“After years…” Howard breathes out. “I’ve finally managed to make it again.”_ **

**_He rakes his hands over his hair. “I still need to transport it over to the Pentagon, and there are still a ton of regulation tests, but… I’m_ ** **sure** **_that this is it.”_ **

**_“Hold on, hold on,” You say, hands coming up to stop him on his ramble._ **

**_You raise an eyebrow. “You made… what, again, exactly?”_ **

**_Howard crosses his arms across his chest._ **

**_His eyes twinkle and stare straight into yours._ **

**_“The super-soldier serum.”_ **

Your mouth opens.

_“He has made a breakthrough in his research and has successfully remade an old serum.”_

The man lifts an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“And what is this serum, exactly?”

A blink from your eyes.

 _“He calls it the_ **_super-soldier_ ** _serum, sir.”_

The man doesn’t respond, shock evident in his face for a few seconds at the revelation; but he shakes it off before you could say anything.

“And…” He starts, voice dropping down to a whisper. “ _What_ is he exactly planning to do with this serum?”

A pause.

_“He said that he is planning to transport it to the Pentagon ‘this week’, sir. However, he did not state exactly when or how he will be doing it.”_

Another hum.

“Noted.”

Your head tilts to the side.

_“Anything else, sir?”_

“No,” He replies.

He takes a pause, before saying;

**_“Cut.”_ **

Your whole body flinches at the word.

Clarity washes over through you— as if someone had just doused you with ice-cold water.

You narrow your eyes and blink repeatedly, your focus shifting from one side of the room to the other. 

They stop again upon the sight of the man that you had seen frozen before in that cylinder.

Now he sat completely still on a chair, his long, black hair blocking his face.

One of his arms is gone, and there’s a layer of blood across his chest. 

Dread pools up in your stomach, vomit threatening to rise up your throat as your heart rate increases. 

_Panic._

“Where am I!?” You cry out, voice hoarse and limbs thrashing.

You shift your head left and right, trying to find a way to escape: a door, a window, _anything._

The man before you chuckles.

“You are _right_ where you belong.”

You scream, and his jaw twitches.

He gets up and grabs a damp cloth.

“Time for you to get some sleep.”

He presses it against your nose.

You cry out in protest— but your lungs welcomed the sickeningly sweet scent.

You close your eyes and rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if u have any questions/requests, feel free to send me an ask over on tumblr!!:) my username over there is @lustresky !  
> \- lily<3


End file.
